Greetings, Starfighter. You have been drafted by the National Football League to defend the Shield against Xur and the Ko-dan Armada.

God, I loved that movie as a kid. Video games save the known universe. Mary Catherine Stewart, who still has her fastball at the age of 57. The “Death Blossom” maneuver, which remains the only rival to the Awesome Blossom in the blossom hierarchy in both niftiness and lethality. Also, it allowed me to discover the truth behind Mitch McConnell.

So here we are, comrades. After nearly three months of deprivation, we reach The Draft: the oasis in the desert, the last-gas-for-150-miles stopover where we refill our tank of Optimism. Today and tomorrow are the best days of the Foosball calendar year, because they are like the night before Christmas: all anticipation and hope, dreaming of the shiny new toys. Unless you are a Cleveland fan, in which case you know even the giant bike-shaped present is going to somehow turn out to be socks.

AUTHORS NOTE: I started writing this before yesterday’s insanity broke out, and I was bitching about how nothing was going on. Then the Universe smiled upon me.

COMBINE INVITEES

CHARGE: None. Goddamnit.

So every year about a week before the draft, we get to find out who tested positive for drugs at the Combine. I like to think of it as a Combine drill to weed (hah!) out those who either have a legitimate problem with substance abuse or are too stupid to stop smoking pot long enough to make several million dollars. This year, allegedly, not a single player tested positive for any illicit substance or was red flagged for suspected masking (generally a highly dilute sample). Spec-fucking-tacular.

So this is disappointing in two ways. First, as a column ostensibly focusing on the illegal doings of NFL players, coaches, owners, equipment managers, etc., I was counting on a certain amount of bad-but-not-Greg-Hardy-bad behavior to provide grist for the mill of attempted humor that is CrimeBeat!. So far, I’ve gotten a dick jumping out during the 40-yard dash, several domestic incidents, some trades and the Teflon LeSean McCoy saga. I believe in a just but somewhat perverse God, and He has apparently seen fit to deprive me of decent story lines for this column by making it an off-season of boredom or horror-not-conducive-to-comedy. Can’t even get a decent pee-in-a-cup jo..

BREAKING MUTHAFUCKING NEWS

Holy piss, everything has just gone wibbly-wobbly. Perhaps God does listen to complaints as well as prayers.

TAAAAWM BRADY

CHARGE: Intentional Infliction of Emotional Rapture; Belonging to a union whose leadership can’t negotiate a handjob in a whorehouse.

https://youtu.be/bpCtgNN6g-E

Yes, we apparently have been very good boys and girls, because a panel of the Second Circuit Court of Appeals has just decreed that this leap year shall have a bonus Patriots Schadenfreude Day! The district court has been reversed, thereby reinstating the original 4-game suspension given to Brady about a thousand years ago. Huzzah for expected rulings in routine labor relations cases! HUZZZZZZAAHHHH FOR THE NATIONAL LABOR RELATIONS ACT OF 1935, BITCHES!!!!!!

Seriously though, this isn’t a real surprise, even though it is so sweet I may need to bum some insulin off my diabetic coworker. Courts give arbitrators a lot of deference, and they give the terms of Collective Bargaining Agreements a lot of deference. The CBA, in this case, gives Goodell a vast amount of discretion in determining disciplinary issues. Was that a good idea? Probably not. Did the Players’ Union agree to it? Hell yes they did.

Unions are creatures of collective movement- a labor union is either big enough or has enough of the specialized workforce to give leverage in negotiating a contract with an employer, because individual workers would not have that leverage. Conversely, union members are bound by the contracts that their leadership negotiates on behalf of that group. Don’t like what your leadership negotiated? Negotiate it differently the next time.

The case will likely be appealed to the full Second Circuit, which will just as likely reject it, and then to the Supreme Court, who will almost certainly reject it unless Sonya Sotomayor has serious money down on the Patriots in Week 1.

As expected, Patriots fans have accepted this reversal with quiet dignity and grace.

Haha, just kidding.

The pitchforks apparently haven’t gathered any dust since last August, because the reaction has been swift and spectacular. I’m not going to Pats Fans React Reasonably this shit, because it is legitimately too delicious to eat the whole thing. However, I’ve seen reactions ranging from the “IF THE PSI DOESN’T FIT YOU MUST ACQUIT” to “THEYAH AWL JEALOUS!” to some legitimately racist shit about Circuit Judge Denny Chin. Once again, I offer my condolences to the reasonable Pats fans on Our Blessed Site for having to be associated with these schmucks.

But seriously, please, finish this for me- I couldn’t possible eat another bite.

SAM BRADFORD/HOWIE ROSEMAN

CHARGE: Conspiracy to incite a riot

So I have nothing against the Eagles since they disposed of Chip Kelly. However, I have several friends who are rabid Philly fans, and therefore the fires of chaos currently burning at the Linc are doing a lot to warm the frozen cockles of my heart.

As many have said, Howie Roseman is apparently on a mission to wash Chip Kelly right out of his hair. Originally, getting rid of the Kelly Stank took two forms: dumping his record collection out the window (Kiko Alonso and Byron Maxwell) and pissing on the same tree Kelly had to mark it as “yours” (resigning Bradford). But apparently Roseman awoke sometime last week and realized that all this left him with was a $36 million urine-drenched tree at quarterback (again, Bradford). So he mortgaged the future in hopes that the Rams would Ramit and the better of the top two QBs would fall to him. Which is not the worst bet one could make. However, it’s reasonable for the fanbase to feel a little queasy after more reversals of field than a Barry Sanders run.

Despite everyone knowing he is really on a one-year contract (which is a pretty good bet, since his cap hit is $22.5 million next year), Bradford in turn allegedly threw a goddamn hissy fit about likely being a “bridge” starter until The Franchise is ready to take the reins and has demanded a trade.

Consider: Bradford has earned more than $78 million already. He has played in 63 games. That’s $1,238,095 per game. Again, assuming he is on a no-really-it’s-one-year deal, his guaranteed money averages out to about $1.125 million per game this year. It’s not like he’s a struggling veteran looking for his last big contract.

But apparently Tom Condon has been feeding Bradford tape of his other client, Peyton Manning, because Sam is insisting he’s “a competitor” and “wants to show who is best” and so needs to make sure he’s not seriously challenged for a starting spot. Anyone else feel like his logic is a little suspect?

I hate it when Internet People try to draw false equivalencies between very different times and situations, but I’m going to. When the Chargers drafted Phillip Rivers, Drew Brees was in nowhere near as good a shape as Bradford finds himself, but he played it out, proved he was a top-tier quarterback and went into New Orleans as a savior. With examples like Brees-Rivers and Favre-Rodgers, no one in Philly is going to demand that they put the New Kid in right away if the incumbent is doing as well as Bradford seems to think he will. Well, maybe some will, because Philly. But still- something’s rotten in the State of Cheesesteakia. On the upside, maybe the Jets will trade for him and crumble when his knees, shoulder and/or head spontaneously combust. Again.

Reached for comment, community leaders appealed for people to lose their goddamn shit and break things.